What Kind of Ale is This?
by Burp
Summary: Gwaine just wanted Merlin to have a good time on his birthday. The guy never relaxed! He just hadn't realized Merlin was such a rotten drunk! There were some other things about Merlin he was learning too . . . No slash, just friendship. Gwaine, Merlin, Arthur, humor.


Hello All. Is this really the first Merlin fic I've posted? Wow. This is a humorous one shot. I may add on to it or I may not, haven't decided. Enjoy the Merlin and the Gwaine and the Arthur. I know I have. I don't own Merlin. At all. Not even a little bit. :)

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"What kind of ale _is_ this, Gwaine?" Merlin spluttered. "It tastes terrible"

"Only the best ale this side of paradise, my poor, misguided friend" Gwaine answered with a laugh. "You only have a birthday once a year. Indulge a little, eh?" Merlin made a face, but kept sipping at it. Gwaine was one of his best friends, and he was celebrating Merlin's birthday the only way he knew.

"Hey Merlin, see that fellow over there?" Gwaine nodded toward the far wall of the pub. "Watch this." He picked up a walnut from the mess of their table, and lobbed it across the room. The solitary nut bounced several inches off of the man's head. The man in question looked about him quickly, and Gwaine and Merlin pretended they hadn't been looking. Merlin giggled uncharacteristically. Gwaine raised an eyebrow at him and smiled.

"Feeling alright now, are we Merlin?" Merlin scowled.

"Fine." He certainly hadn't meant to giggle. He pushed his ale a bit up the table, deciding not to finish it if he was getting a touch tipsy halfway through.

"Don't stop now mate, you're on'y halfway relaxed!" Merlin crossed his arms.

"I'm done with your forsaken ale, Gwaine. In fact, I'm not even sure it _is_ ale. Only poison should taste that foul." Oh dear, his words were sounding a bit loose. All his 'l's had turned into 'w's. He would definitely _not_ be consuming any more ale. Gwaine laughed gently at his friend.

"Tell me Merlin, why do you never let loose? You and I are good friends, are we not?" Merlin grinned and nodded once. "So why do you need to be on your guard with me all the time? Why can't you just let yourself have a good time?"

"What you talking about Gwaine, we _always_ have a good time! Even when we have a rotten time, we have a good time!"

"That we do, mate," Gwaine agreed, patting Merlin's shoulder. "Sure you don't want some more ale?' Merlin grinned.

"Maybe just a little." He agreed, and gulped down a bit more, to Gwaine's glee.

Several minutes later, Gwaine's glee had vanished. It was replaced by the deepest horror. At first his friend had merely grinned at him in a not-entirely sober manner and made ridiculous jokes, to which he had laughed uproariously (Hey Gwaine, what did the wizard say when he walked into the bar?). However, by the time the sounding of Merlin's tankard clunked on a dry bottom, things were looking grim.

"Hey Gwaine," his friend slurred suddenly, "watch this." Merlin turned his wobbly gaze to another walnut on their table and reached his hand out slightly toward it. Suddenly and without warning, the walnut exploded. Gwaine jumped out of his chair in alarm. Merlin looked mildly disappointed. "Oops," he mumbled, "'s try again." The new walnut floated into the air and flew near the ceiling to the other side of the tavern to hover over Gwaine's previous victim for a moment before Merlin opened his hand, and the nut dropped square onto the man's head. Merlin giggled. "Got it that time. D'you see?" Gwaine stared at Merlin like he'd never seen him before. Merlin continued to giggle obliviously. Then something even more horrible happened. Merlin's chair started floating, seemingly buoyed by the man's laughter. Gwaine shot over to the other side of the table like an arrow and pulled Merlin back to earth. Gwaine feigned a smile. He wasn't nearly drunk enough for this.

"O.K. Merlin, I think it's time to go, don't you?" Merlin grinned goofily.

"Where we goin'?" he asked.

"For a walk!" Gwaine exclaimed, trying his best to make it sound excited rather than desperate. Luckily it worked.

"Oh. O.K.!" Merlin nearly tripped jumping out of his chair, which thankfully remained on the ground once he was up.

Gwaine spent the next half hour assisting his stumbling friend into the castle. Merlin had been fascinated by several completely ordinary items along the way. After they'd caught his attention, they didn't stay ordinary for long. A tatty old broom had begun sweeping around the street in what appeared to be a folk dance, a hammer in the blacksmith's stall had begun tapping out a familiar drinking song on the anvil, and now, as they finally weaved about the castle halls, and Gwaine was nearly at his wit's end, Merlin had started singing very loudly, and occasionally off-key. Therefore, he was hardly surprised, although he _was_ terrified when they walked past Arthur, who'd been casually leaning against a wall, waiting for them. In his night clothes (although he had stopped to put on a shirt). Gwaine gulped.

"Merlin, Gwaine," Arthur said in _that_ tone. "Why am I not surprised?" Gwaine tried to smile.

"Princess! Merlin and I were just celebrating his birthday. I'm afraid we got just a bit carried away. You understand." Arthur just looked at them. Finally Merlin seemed to notice he was there, and stopped singing.

"Arthur! We were jus' at the tavern! Gwaine ga'e me the wors' ale I've ever tasted, and I made a walnut e'splode. You should ha' been there!" Arthur quirked an eyebrow.

"Why is it Gwaine, that Merlin is pissed, and you're not?"

"Well, Princess, I happen to have a much higher tolerance than he does, and-" Merlin interrupted there.

"An' he ga'e me weird ale, Arthur. It tasted like dung." Arthur leveled Gwaine with a glare. Gwaine gulped.

"I just wanted him to let loose for once! He'll only drink one tankard, because he knows that's his limit. He won't let himself properly relax! He needed a break, and it's his birthday, so I helped him. I didn't realize he was such a rotten drunk." Arthur rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Come on then, let's get him back to Gaius." He moved to Merlin's other side and pulled his arm over his shoulder. Gwaine was alarmed. What if Merlin kept doing magicky-type things?

"Oh, you don't need to come, Arthur. I'll get him back to Gaius just fine." Arthur just started walking.

"It's no trouble. For once it's _not_ Merlin's fault that he's drunk. You, on the other hand, will be in for it tomorrow." Gwaine grimaced, and then his brow furrowed.

"What do you mean, _for once_ it's not his fault he's drunk? I've never seen Merlin drunk before." Arthur raised a brow at him.

"Really? Then what does he do down at the tavern all the time?"

"What are you talking about? Merlin's never at the tavern unless I drag him there. And I should know." Arthur was confused.

"If that is the case, then why is it that every time Merlin goes missing, Gaius tells me he's there?" Merlin piped up here.

"Always' tol' him that was a rotten excuse. As if I have time to spen' at tavern." Two pairs of eyes stared at him after that admission. Merlin was, of course, oblivious to their gazes, as he currently had his head flipped back over his shoulders, and was staring at the ceilings as they pulled him along.

"What exactly is it an excuse for, Merlin?" Arthur asked calmly. Merlin swung his head up to look at his friend. His face suddenly split into a huge grin, and he wagged his finger at him (not that Arthur could see it, as it was wagging over his other shoulder).

"s' a secret. Not s'posed t' tell anyone." He made a shushing sound right into Arthur's face. To Arthur's regret, it was a damp shushing sound. He closed his eyes and wiped a hand across his face, and they continued walking.

"I assume Gaius knows this secret of yours?" Merlin nodded his head vigorously. "And this secret takes up a lot of your time?" Another vigorous nod from Merlin.

"Yeah, I ne'er have time t' do anythin'!" Merlin exclaimed with that sort of outraged look he got on occasion, "Firs' have t' do your chores, then Gai's chores (I HATE that leech tank), then sneak aroun' to catch th' bad people, then save Camelo', then repeat. I'm ex_hausted_! Haven' seen m' mother in _ages_, bu' I can't leave, b'cause evryun'll be n' danger." Arthur was perplexed.

"Save Camelot? How do you do that?" he asked.

"Can't tell," Merlin slurred as his eyes flickered shut and his head hung on his chest. "S' a secret. Don' want t' lose m' head. Secrets keep me 'live. Sshhh." With that enigmatic statement, Merlin passed out, and they had to drag him snoring the rest of the way to the physician's quarters.

After they'd laid him in his bed and left him to Gaius' care, they walked back in silence for the first few moments. Arthur broke it.

"What on earth is his secret? Do you think it was drunken delusion? But no, he's doing _something_ when Gaius tells me he's in the tavern. Maybe he has a girlfriend?" Gwaine remained silent. He had a pretty good idea of what Merlin's secret was, and he didn't want Arthur to catch wind of what he was thinking. In his head he was going through all of the odd things that had ever happened in Merlin's presence, and discovering that he was relatively certain the boy had saved his life on several occasions, starting with the first time they'd met.

"I guess you'll just have to ask him when he's sober." He finally said. Arthur looked at him for several moments, and then nodded. They parted ways, each man to his own quarters.

Arthur muttered to himself as he walked back to his quarters. "Catching bad people, saving Camelot, can't leave, secret that would get him killed. What on earth was he talking about? Was it just drunken rambling?" He sighed as he opened the door to his chambers. "I suppose I'll just have to ask him tomorrow, like Gwaine said." With that, he flopped onto the bed and fell asleep.

Merlin, as can be expected, awoke feeling less than chipper, and was currently walking towards the kitchens with a massive headache, although it was improved from this morning, when Gaius had forced some vile potion past his lips. He planned to kill Gwaine later on today. When he got there, he was immediately latched onto by one of the cooks, Mary, who caught his peaky demeanor the moment he walked through the doorway. She quickly muscled him over to a table off to the side of the room and threatened to spoon feed him the steaming plate of spiced oatmeal in front of him if he didn't start eating of his own volition very quickly. Merlin complied with her wishes, and was pleased to note that his queasy stomach was eased by having the food in it.

"Thank you, Mary," he said as he handed her the empty plate. "May I have the king's breakfast now?" he asked. Mary smiled and patted his cheek in a motherly fashion.

"Of course you can, Dearheart. Here you are." Merlin thanked her and made his way to the king's chambers, only slightly late, and feeling rather improved. He opened Arthur's door to let himself in, and was quite surprised to note that the king was already up and dressing himself. He raised his eyebrows.

"Merlin. I didn't expect you this morning." Merlin quirked an eyebrow.

"Why not? You haven't given me the day off." Arthur chuckled.

"No, but considering the state of you last night, I hardly expected you to be capable of early morning chores." Merlin's eyes widened.

"You saw?" he asked, mortified. Arthur would never let him live this down.

"You don't remember? Gwaine and I had to drag you down to your chamber after you passed out." Merlin looked confused.

"I don't remember that." His brows furrowed, "Actually, I don't remember anything past that . . . walnut." His eyes widened even further. The walnut. He'd exploded a walnut in front of Gwaine and the entire tavern. He gulped. Maybe noone'd noticed. He only hoped he hadn't done anything in front of Arthur. From the genial way his friend was looking at him, he didn't think he had, but Gwaine was another story. He'd have to find him when he was done here.

"Ah yes, the walnut. I had forgotten. You told me that you had 'e'sploded' it last night, and that I should have been there." He chuckled, and Merlin relaxed, although he was still pale. "You didn't tell me it was your birthday, Merlin." Merlin quirked a brow.

"You never asked." Arthur knocked him on the back of the head.

"I shouldn't need to, Idiot."

"Why, do dollop-heads have psychic powers?"

"No, because clot-poles should tell their friends when they have birthdays. Would it have killed you to invite me to the party?"

"I'm sorry, it sounded like you just called me your friend . . ."

"Of course I did. Insults aside, Merlin, you are my friend." Merlin smiled and ducked his head.

"I'll keep that in mind next year, my lord."

"See that you do."

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Ta da! Hope y'all liked it. Maybe more later, haven't decided. Have an uplifting day! -Burp


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